Postcard from Spain - Help me rondas!

Staying in Alumencar, in Southern Spain near Malaga. This is near the Costa del Sol, close enough to smell the sky telly, fish and chips and sizzling Brits but, hidden away, a world away. The reason is that it’s not straw donkey territory, it’s a Spanish resort for the Spanish. The plus side is…no Brits. The down side is that when it comes to food, expect the unexpected, i.e. foreign.

Off to dinner in a group containing several adults and three children. Middle class British children can, depending on your point of view, be described as fussy eaters or spoiled brats. Either way, the kids’ parents were profoundly glad to find a Lidl (home of reasonably priced but funny-looking food, including chicken nuggets and ketchup) on day one of the holiday.

Eating out is quite a different proposition.

Descending on a local restaurant, the kids’ mum tries to convey that she is seeking pizza. She says pizza, the waitress does not appear to know what she means, she makes a round motion on the table – the international mime for a circular Italian food object. The waitress smiles ‘rondas?’ Yes, smiles all round. She brings the rondas menu, smiles all round, the fillings look familiar and pizza-ish.

No. What the kids get is a rondas. Essentially this is a circular bread, like a big bagel, stuffed with garlic, meats and other foreign filth. I thought they looked great, but the kids were not impressed. However, by this time the adults had discovered the house white (I had left my phrase book at home but even I can say ‘rioja’ with convincing gusto to get a bottled delivered).

Two things occur. The first is that the kids’ mum needs either a phrase book or mime lessons – what the waitress was actually saying was probably ‘is it a film? How many letters?’ The second is that every country has its own form of circular food. Italy = pizza, Spain = rondas, England = Cumberland sausage. On the whole, I think we were pretty lucky to get what we did.